


Piercing Silver

by nocturno_oxomo



Series: Great Gatsby au [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Homophobia, Infidelity, M/M, Some Fluff, Some angst, adopted Tobio, altered age, emotional breakdowns, failing oisuga marriage, great gatsby, roaring 20's
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-07-18 05:59:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7302220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nocturno_oxomo/pseuds/nocturno_oxomo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gin was the national drink and sex was the national obsession. A 1920's Great Gatsby setting to be filled with plot twists, sadness, and fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was inspired and largely based on the novel The Great Gatsby, check the end of the notes for quote credits! If you have read the book, I hope you notices the parallels. The overall plot is different but the characters are similar. Cheers!

_Gin was the national drink and sex was the national obsession_

_I greatly consider my summer spent in New York to be my absolute rock bottom. At the time it was a nonstop flurry of parties, alcohol, lies, sex, drugs, money- just an overwhelming amount of decadence-enough to choke a man and ruin him from the inside out. I don’t know how, but I managed to  escaped the gilded plague that crept through the halls of those exquisite manners and entwined itself into the souls of the affluent, leaving their bodies to be empty shells of who they once were. I watched those around me become infected with the omnipresent green eye of the Long Island Sound._

_-Akaashi Keiji 1927_

 

It all began the summer of 1922 when Akaashi Keiji decided to leave home and go running after the golden bells of Wall Street. For the first time he would be without the financial support of his family and he couldn’t have been more excited.

Akaashi had come from a rather  unattached, unloving home. His parents weren’t abusive, but they weren’t mindful of the fact that they had a son. His younger years had been filled with nothing but academia and violin lessons. Each day he felt as though his parents drifted farther away; the only time their presence was felt was through the classes he was forced to take and books he was forced to read. He could remember almost going weeks at a time without speaking a word to neither his father nor mother. It was that speak-when-spoken-to household ideology that had forced Akaashi into his shell of shyness and skepticism.

When Akaashi had first initiated leaving to Wall Street his parents had greatly opposed. They were adamant that someone with his educational background was above being a bondman in New York. There was no sentiment in their argument, they were not concerned for his well being or if they would miss him, and it was that lack of conviction that convinced Akaashi that he needed to leave. As he left he took a small start up loan from his parents to help with the first few month, and so with the sunshine and the great burst of leaves growing on the trees, Keji had that familiar feeling that life was beginning over again with the summer.

After a very long and tedious hunt through many advertisements, he had managed to find and settle into a quaint little cottage with a cheap rent in the West Egg, just outside 20 miles outside of New York. In both peninsulas, Akaashi  had the smallest available home, which originally had been a servants’ quarters for one of the neighboring mansions.  Typically the people who made residence in the islands were very rich. Those who came from old money settled in the East Egg and those who had only recently became wealthy settled in the West Egg.

Akaashi had  felt like a bit of an outsider in the neighborhood being the only one who wasn’t abundantly wealthy.  His cottage  was nestled in the forgotten greenery that surrounded the palace which belonged to the city’s very own Sawamura Daichi. Across the bay and to the East, visible once the fog had cleared, lived his cousin Sugawara Koushi with his husband and son.

Suga had always been Akaashi’s favorite family member with his welcoming smile and calm disposition, Suga had always managed to make Akaashi, as well as very many others, feel safe around him. Suga also had one of those voices you just had listen intently to, it wasn’t deep or gravelly, more light and airy, as though each word danced on  his tongue and slipped off like a small wisp of smoke. It was no wonder that he had captured the heart of playboy business tycoon Oikawa Tooru. Unfortunately Akaashi had missed their wedding due to his deployment  overseas in Europe. Akaashi had known Oikawa back in college at Yale, and just after the war had spent two days with them in Chicago.

The wedding had been a very large event with guests ranging from business owners to senators to a handful of celebrities. Though they got married in Suga’s hometown, no expense was spared to make the venue look as though the wedding occurred somewhere far and magical. Their wedding colors had been blue, yellow, and white, with extravagant floral displays almost mimicking the Starry Night. Hundreds and hundreds of off white fairy lights gave the wedding an enchanting feeling, leaving the guests with mixed feelings, knowing what they were seeing was merely decorations but still in awe of how real the sensation was.

Of course the media coverage had been split on their opinions of the union between Oikawa and Suga. Some referred to their wedding as an abomination and exactly what was wrong with the world. Many people went as far as to sending death threats to the two men demanding they take back their “sick joke and sham of a marriage”. However, there were some newspapers and broadcasters the praised the two for listening to hearts rather than the media. Several began referring to Oikawa and Suga as the true modernists of the era, praising them for leaving behind the traditional ways of the past and embracing the new freedom that came with the Jazz Age.

Photographers had been hired to capture enamouring moments of the wedding so that the two men could look back and reflect on their happiest day. The photo album had remained untouched and dusty, hidden in the back of their closest, in the same box it had arrived in.

About a year after the ceremony, the two adopted a small six year old boy named Kageyama Tobio. The boy always had a vexed look under his messy black bangs and wandering eyes which were constantly scanning his surroundings. Both of his fathers had agreed that he was much too serious for his own good. Kageyama’s presence had complimented the relationship between Suga and Oikawa. His seriousness offset Suga’s cheekiness and Oikawa’s superfluous attitude. Overall each member of the trio had developed their niches with each other and fell into a manageable rut.

Once again the media had torn apart their decision of adopting a child. The couple were either praised or criticized, either way their role in New York’s high society had become more embedded with each developing story on their personal life. _  
_

 

On Akaashi’s third day in West Egg he had finally finished settling into his new home. Coinciding with his personality, the house was decorated in a very minimalistic style. As a non-believer in the ostentatious mindset of the era, Akaashi only furnished his home with absolute necessities; a table for four, two grey wingback armchairs by the fireplace, a dark cherry wood dresser, a desk in his bedroom, and several  bookshelves. On his shelves were dozens of volumes on banking and credit and investment securities, red and gold like new money from the mint, promising to unfold the shining secrets that only Midas and Morgan and Mæcenas knew.

The day before he had received a letter on lavender stationery politely demanding that he visit the sender right away. There was no name signed or written on the envelope aside from Akaashi’s, however he could tell it was from Suga based on the thin and delicate cursive. Much like the way he spoke, Suga’s writing had a whimsical feel to it. Each word had seemed precisely chosen and etched onto the fine paper  with long swoops and curls.

As Akaashi was walking out his door and straightening his tie, he could’ve sworn that he was being watched. His cautious glances were greeted by nothing but the dancing leaves and the empty property that surrounded his house.Looming to his right stood the Sawamura mansion: the monstrosity towered over Akaashi’s single story cottage standing proudly at four stories, five if you count the widow’s walk. The only sign of life was the rustling curtains Akaashi caught sight in one of Sawamura’s second story windows, as though someone was hurrying away. Brushing off the feeling of uneasiness Akaashi continued on his way over to visit his dearest cousin and family.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quotes:  
> "dozens of volumes...and Maecenas knew"  
> "with a cheap rent... outside of New York"  
> "and so with the sunshine... with the summer."
> 
> I hope you like what you see, if you have questions feel free to comment on here or question on my tumblr: nocturno-oxomo. For anyone who wants to see updates, explanations, or character lists, there will be regular posts on my tumblr. I promise this will be the shortest chapter, there's just so much exposition I need to cover. Non-betaed so let me know if you any mistakes :) Cheers!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the late-ish post, this writing style is a little hard to work with, especially with quote integration. Constructive criticism is always welcomed as well as opinions. Enjoy!

The sheer grandeur of the houses in the East Egg where intimidating to say the least. The mansions there possessed an acquired elegance that was lacking from the structures in the West. The residents walked with a certain swagger as though the bearing of their family names physically weighed down on them; their heads were angled up and their eyes pointing down, and there was a hidden scoff in the way they spoke. From the budding white carnations to the traditional colonial style of mansions, everything about the East Egg screamed old money. 

Akaashi was in awe of Oikawa’s palace of a home, a red and white Georgian Colonial mansion overlooking the bay. The velvety green lawn that stretched in front was carefully manicured with several decorative shrubs and flowers; running from the start of the beach to the front door. Seated in between the twin staircases that had spiraled to their front door was a large bronze statue of the greek goddess Eris paired with great white pillars framed the house mirroring the Acropolis. The brick red color of the building was complemented by the abundance of green from the lawn. Much like the couple that had inhabited the house, the structure itself was very aesthetically pleasing. 

Not knowing where to park, Akaashi drove as close as he could to the outdoor stairs and stopped his car at the base near a fountain. A small ring of roses clung tight to the perimeter of the fountain just high enough so that no one could sit on it.

 

The doors flew open and Keiji was greeted by an older looking man in a black morning coat and grey vest. “Yes?”

“Oh-um, well I’m here you see-t-to see-” Akaashi started, still in awe of the monstrosity of a home in front of him.

“Henri!” a voice called loudly from behind him “Is that...it is! Akaashi! Come ,come, come.” Keiji was suddenly gripped tightly by his right wrist and pulled forcefully through the threshold tripping over himself and crashing into a strong chest.

“My, my, Keiji, you aren’t  _ falling  _ for me are you?” the man purred.

 

Keiji looked up and was greeted by the playful smirk and knowing eyes of Oikawa Tooru. He quickly  stood up and straightened himself out, realigning his navy vest and salmon colored shirt. “Oikawa-san, it’s good to see you again,” Keiji finally said regaining his composure. 

Oikawa Tooru was a cunning devilishly handsome man known for his quick wit and charm in the business industry. His eyes were always gleaming with determination and a sort of mischief that hinted he had a plan for everything and anything that came his way. He had a tall athletic build that recounted the past years of competitive volleyball for and after University. Careful about his looks, Oikawa had continued to remain in this particular physical state. He was wearing riding clothes and smelled faintly of the horses he had kept on his property. Even in lace up boots and a tightly tucked shirt, he maintained a commanding presence.  

“What’s with the honorifics, Keiji? Hurry up, I want to give you a mini tour before the others get restless” Oikawa beamed, giving the other man two extra hard pats on the back clearly guiding him in the direction Oikawa wanted him to go in.

 

“Others?” Keiji asked.

“You know, Suga,” his expression dropped just  momentarily, “ and our friend.”

“Mmm,” Akaashi nodded, skeptical at the allusiveness at the mention of the  _ “friend”. _

 

Akaashi gazed upon the inside of the house, the interior matching the appealing charm of the outside. The dual marble staircases rivaled Halicarnassus in both purity and gleam. Black metal railings swooped up the sides and met at the apex of the staircases bridging them together, accented with bronze details. 

Above the foyer hung a massive crystal chandelier. Tri-layered, the circumference of the fixture was well over six feet, each prism and pendalogue were hand cut in a manner that refracted the incoming light into shy rainbows that danced and skittered along the walls, never hanging still for more than a moment. The way the chandelier swayed should’ve worried Akaashi that it would all come crashing down, but it seemed as though to move as the same sort of set pattern as a metronome. 

 

Following Akaashi’’s glance, Oikawa stopped to stare at the chandelier with him. “Do you like it?”

“Yes, it’s very nice. Did it come with the home or did you have it installed?”

“Oh, um, it was,” Oikawa hesitated, “It was a wedding gift.” Had Akaashi not known Oikawa as well as he did, he almost wouldn’t have caught the Oikawa’s silent scorn at the phrase “wedding gift”.

 

Oikawa placed his hand on the small of Akaashi’s back and hurriedly pushed him out of the foyer straight back towards the glass doors that lead to their deck that faced the bay. It was a clear day so Akaashi could see the very many trees that surrounded his cottage and the large house that belonged to Sawamura. “Look down there,” Oikawa nudged Akaashi to redirect the younger’s attention to the sand just before the waves met land.  Just past the property steps that touched the shore was a new volleyball net set, the silver poles glistening from not yet being put up against the cruel natural forces of the Sound. 

 

“Do you like it?”

 

Akaashi studied how in direct sun the harsh light would bounce off the poles with a blinding brightness. The cordgrass and morning glories had been trimmed back to clear space for the court and the sand from where they once stood had been turned over so that the roots would no longer remain in the playing area. 

To be entirely honest, in Akaashi’s opinion, the volleyball court was very uncharacteristic of the house and clashed with the overall image. Volleyball was a game of strategized attacks and brute strength, a constant war of endurance and calculations against an enemy. Suga and Oikawa had the interior and exterior of their mansion poised to give off an overall delicate charm. Though the face of the structure was brick, the abundance of glass and windows made it feel it  destined to shatter with the slightest bit of force. 

 

“It’s...nice,” Akaashi finally spoke with a hint of trepidation. Oikawa pouted in response, indicating that he wasn’t hurt but that he clearly wanted to pretend to be. 

“Ahh, ‘kaashi, judgemental as always,” Oikawa whined, “Is nothing ever good enough for your impossible standards?”

“What do you mean, Oikawa-san, I said it was nice?”

“Yes, but you hesitated, you had to think about it. You weren’t immediately moved by my selfless gesture as a father to give my son his very own volleyball court. You weren’t impressed that I love my child so much that I wanted to pass a family tradition down to him.”

Akaashi tried to suppress a chortle under the non-threating glare of Oikawa, “I’m sorry Oikawa-san, next time I’ll prepare a ballad in your honor.”

“I’m holding you to that, Keiji,” Oikawa stated, standing with his arm akimbo on his right hip. “Come on, let’s play a quick round.” The taller man turned around and started to head for the stairs down to the shore. 

“But Oikawa-san, we are both setters, and more importantly, there are only two of us.”

“But we could just toss to each other, geez ‘kaashi.”

Akaashi sighed, thinking to himself of  how Oikawa was more of a child than man sometimes. “Yes, but I rather not get sand in my clothes, maybe some other time, Oikawa-san,” said Akaashi. 

“Hmmph, you just don’t want to play with me because you don’t like that the court is in the sand,” responded Oikawa, this time he was making his way by back to Akaashi at the top of the deck. “You’ll warm up to it eventually,” he added snaking an arm around Akaashi’s waist to lead him to their  next spot. 

 

Returning inside the house, Akaashi noticed that above the fireplace closest to the glass door that lead back to the deck, hung a large painted family portrait. The portrait was unsettling to say the least. Suga was sitting with Kageyama on his lap, and Oikawa was standing behind them with one hand on Suga’s shoulder.

Kageyama was wearing a blue corduroy suit and underneath was a freshly pressed white cotton shirt whose collar had been chalked so that it would appear brighter in the picture. Completing his outfit was an orange tie with an intricate eldredge knot,  similar to the one  Oikawa had on. Suga had worn a raven colored suit with a light blue tie while Oikawa’s was charcoal with a red tie. The only thing matching between Oikawa and Suga were their radiant smiles and tired, indifferent eyes. The young boy seemed to be the only one with a genuine expression; he was pouting since the last thing any child wanted to do was sit still. 

Oikawa continued to pull  Akaashi towards the eastern wing of the house passing by the very many other lavishly decorated rooms and restrooms and corridors that Akaashi could only get a glimpse of. The house as a whole seemed to have a carefully picked color scheme, each room was complimenting to the next, so much so that it almost seemed like a display rather than a home. 

“Here we are!” hummed Oikawa, they walked through a high hallway into a bright rosy-colored space, fragilely bound into the house by French-windows at either end. Akaashi was greeted by the sound of laughter and several large billowing curtains obstructing his view, twisting up to the frosted wedding-cake of the ceiling . A cold breeze came through and pushed back his dark curls. Around him the large white curtains undulated as though their only purpose was to block him from seeing who else had been in the room . “These fucking curtains, I swear to God,” Oikawa mumbled as he moved toward them to thwart their rhythmic performance. Much to Akaashi’s surprise the entire room had glass doors and windows for walls allowing for a complete view onto their vast Italian gardens and outdoor dining area set off to the side.  

The laughter continued as Oikawa struggled against the canvas giants, roaring up louder as Oikawa furiously pushed back the curtains unsuccessfully. One of the voices Akaashi had heard was light and airy, almost like several small bells chiming together whimsically.  He could tell instantly it had to be Suga’s laugh since there were no one  who rivaled his capability of producing such sweet sounds.  The other laugh was gruff and boisterous, like waves dragging rocks against the side of a ship; Akaashi could only assume it was the friend Oikawa had mentioned earlier. 

As the curtains completely settled, Akaashi saw that in the middle of the room were two  white leather couches facing each other with a mahogany coffee table in between them. Immediately he was enamored by the piercing gold orbs staring back at him. They belonged to man who looked like the personified version of the expertly crafted statues of ancient Greece. His perfectly chiseled muscles pushed against the white fabric of his button down, leaving little to the imagination. His biceps were like carved pythons trying to break through their confines. The first three buttons of his shirt were undone allowing for a full view of his warm tawny colored chest.  Akaashi felt his face flush and mouth go dry. The man donned a half cocked smile and ran his finger through this hair, running from black roots to silver tips. 

 

“Hey,hey, hey, Oikawa who is this?”

Suga’s silver head popped up from the couch in front of Akaashi and turned to face him. His cheeks were still brushed with color from the laughing earlier and his lips spread into a smile. “Akaashi!” he sang, “I’m p-paralyzed with happiness.” He laughed again, as if he had said something very witty and reached out for Akaashi’s hand. 

 

Still mesmerized by the beautiful stranger sitting in front of him, Akaashi had missed Suga’s silent gesture. Oikawa scoffed and shoved the younger man forward to greet his husband. Internally grateful that Oikawa had broke his heated eye contact, Akaashi stumbled forward taking Suga’s hand in his own and placing a soft kiss at the top. Suga had hinted in a murmur that the surname of the muscular man had been Bokuto. (Akaashi had heard rumored that Suga’s murmur was only to make people lean toward him; an irrelevant criticism that made it no less charming.) 

“Nice to meet you meet you, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi worked out meekly, cursing his cottonmouth that mixed and slurred his words. 

Bokuto uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, propping one elbow on each knee. He folded his hands into a triangle right in front of the tip of his nose as though he were thinking about something else, something direly important. “Nice to meet you to, Akaashi,” he said, dragging out the middle syllable as though he was tasting the way the name felt in his mouth. 

 

Akaashi felt some kind of electricity jolt through his body and race up spine, waking every neuron in his body, at the simple pronunciation of his name. He quickly  looked back at his cousin who began to ask him questions in his low, thrilling voice. It was the kind of voice that the ear follows up and down, as if each speech is an arrangement of notes that will never be played again. His face was sad and lovely with bright things in it, bright eyes and a bright passionate mouth, but there was an excitement in his voice: a singing compulsion, a whispered “Listen”.

 

“Akaashi, tell me, do they miss me?” Suga asked, wiggling slightly in his spot. If Akaashi didn’t know better he would’ve assumed that Suga may have been drunk.

“The streets... are painted black with mourning,” Akaashi began to tease, “the flowers weep and children shout. The whole town is desolate awaiting your return.”

“Oh how lovely, that’s just how I like it,” giggled Suga.

“You don’t think I’m joking  do you? Why everyone and their mother-”Akaashi had tried continuing but Suga pulled him over the couch and flung him onto the ground right before the coffee table, knocking the wind out of him as he landed. 

 

At this point Suag had been laughing again just as maniacally as he was when Akaashi and Oikawa had first come in. “Keiji- I swear- you are too much!” he said between laughs. Akaashi sat up with a groan, wincing at the pain in his shoulder from his sudden acquaintance with the floor. He looked up and standing in front of him with his arm out stretched was Bokuto, whose head was angled slightly out of curiosity. 

There was a hint of concern in Bokuto’s face, “You okay?”

 

“Mm, yes thank you,” murmured Akaashi. He reached out for Bokuto’s hand and was pulled up to his feet with tremendous force, stopping right before the taller man. Akaashi stood just inches from Bokuto’s face; staring straight into kind eyes filled with old starlight and gold. 

Akaashi’s face flushed a deeper scarlet than the roses from the garden in front of the mansion. Their eye contact held for longer than necessary again.  Bokuto smirked, releasing Akaashi’s hand, and made his way over to Oikawa. Suga’s laughing had suddenly stopped and he let out a soft “oh” at what had just transgressed in front of him.

“Hey, hey, HEY! Oikawa when are we eating, I’m starved” Bokuto boomed while giving Oikawa three hard pats on the back with each hey. 

“Easy with the back slaps you impudent brute,” Oikawa mumbled.

“Aww, Oikawa why you gotta be so mean with those phrases you know I don’t understand,” whined Bokuto, draping his arms and full body weight onto Oikawa’s thinner frame.

Suga giggled again, “ You have to forgive Oikawa,” he said mainly to Akaashi, “He’s been very profound lately, reading those big books with long words in them.”

“Well isn’t someone feeling cheeky today, Mr. Refreshing” quipped Oikawa, clearly annoyed. 

“”Anything for you, dear,” Suga deadpanned without looking. 

 

Oikawa’s eccedentesiast like smile returned as he pushed Bokuto off him. “I think it’s about time we eat, yeah?” Oikawa left from the room to call for a servant to set up their dinner on the patio, Bokuto followed him out in hopes to get a hold of any food sooner. 

Suga pouted slightly and dropped his eyes down as though he intended to  study the carpet. Akaashi couldn’t help but notice that the downcast look greatly complimented Suga’s dainty features. The way a defeated sadness hung on his lips, pulling them into a slight frown, how the sparkle in his eye would dull, making him a sort of tragic beauty. 

“Suga-san are-”

“Let’s get dinner” Suga cut him off with a quick smile. He cupped Akaashi’s face with his hands and gave him a peck on each cheek before leading him to patio.

Outside the weather had calmed and Akaashi’s hair was longer at the mercy of the winds. Servants hurried frantically around a square table setting the cutlery and folding the napkins. Akaashi couldn’t but to feel out of place. He wasn’t used to having his dinner made for him let alone having his seat and silverware prepared. Oikawa and Suga had just sat down so casually, but Akaashi had felt like he was impeding on some kind of rehearsed scene.

 

“Something wrong Akaashi?” asked Bokuto

“Ah-oh, no!” Akaashi replied, suddenly blushing at how fast he had responded.

“Well alright then,” Bokuto lightly chuckled. He angled his chair to face closer to where Akaashi was standing while pulling Akaashi’s chair to himself at the table. Bokuto patted the cushion on the seat indicating that he wanted Akaashi to sit there next to him.

 

As Akaashi sat he noticed that Suga and Oikawa were not looking at each other and it even seemed like the were leaning away. Oikawa was sitting up rigidly, his shoulders visibly clenched under his shirt. Suga was bearing the same expression he had on inside, though he was not as rigid as Oikawa, he was still uneasy. 

 

The uncomfortable silence was broken by the screeching noise of Bokuto dragging his metal chair across the concrete to scooch to Akaashi. He propped his chin with his fist as he leaned in on his elbow, “So Akaashi,” he started, “do you drink at all?”

“No, Bokuto-san,” 

Bokuto gave a slight, slow nod as though he was absorbing vital information. Akaashi noticed that Bokuto had been watching him throughout the duration of dinner. He shifted in his seat afraid to make eye contact again, he could not fathom a reason why Bokuto’s gaze made him so flustered. His stomach churned over and over in a combination of nerves and mild giddiness. 

“You live in the West Egg right?” Bokuto tried again. 

“Yes, Bokuto-san, right across from here,” Akaashi pointed directing across the Sound.

Bokuto’s expression picked up, “Oh so you know Daichi Sawamura right!?” he half shouted causing everyone at the table to jump. Oikawa began choke to on his gin and a servant rushed to his side to check on him. 

Suga’s eyes widened and he paled, “Daichi, what Daichi?”

“You know him, Suga? Then you have to know him, Akaashi!” Bokuto asked just as loud. 

“N-no not personally,” Suga began, stuttering with red cheeks, “well a-ac-actually-”

“What Mr. Refreshing is trying to say, is that we know  _ of _ him because of his damn firework show every god damn Friday. It’s loud and annoying and it keeps my son up at night,” Oikawa finished.

“And they are blue,” Suga whispered, “ I love blue.”

“What was that, Koushi?”asked Oikawa.

“Huh? Nothing”

 

Akaashi’s eyed the couple aware of the blatant tension, when he turned back to Bokuto it was obvious he had not noticed; he was bouncing in his seat like a dog staring a treat. 

Akaashi sighed, “No Boktuo-san, I don’t know him. I do live near him.” Bokuto frowned a little but quickly smiled again. Akaashi’s stomach flipped at the sight of Bokuto’s dazzling smile, feeling almost embarrassed at the school girl butterflies he felt in his stomach. 

_ God Akaashi, don’t blow this. He’s probably not even gay,  _ he scolded himself.

“Well you’ll probably meet him soon! I wanna be there when you do!” Bokuto continued.

“Sure Bokuto-san,” Akaashi replied weakly. 

Suddenly their conversation was disrupted by the shrill metallic ringing of the phone inside the house.  Suga’s jaw tightened and he dropped his eyes down as he began to prod his food. Bokuto’s smile disappeared and he glanced at Oikawa through the side of his eyes. Akaashi shifted in his seat again, aware of the sudden change in mood but not why. Oikawa chewed his food slower, almost in anticipation that the noise was beckoning him. 

The ringing was stopped and another servant came out the house, stopping and whispering in Oikawa’s ear. “Excuse me,” Oikawa bowed his head and followed the servant inside. 

Akaashi looked between Bokuto, who had his mouth twisted into a frown, and Suga, who now had his eyes closed and was rubbing his temples. 

“I told you not to call me here,” Oikawa hissed loud enough for the dinner guests to hear from outside. There was a pause. “Oh my god you are drunk, aren’t you?”

Suga stood up immediately slamming his hand on the table. Akaashi jumped again but Bokuto didn’t even move from his position. Bokuto’s whiskey glass rolled off the table and shattered on the ground, the brown liquid pooled around the shards like blood. “I’m sorry I need step out for a second,” Suga said, rushing out before either Akaashi or Bokuto could respond.  

Through the glass doors Akaashi saw Oikawa on the phone and Suga quickly approaching him. Suga stood in front of his husband with his arms crossed on his chest. Akaashi could tell by the look in Suga’s eyes he was angry and confrontational.

****

“Bokuto-san, what’s going on?”

“Shuush, I’m trying to hear.”

Oikawa suddenly slammed the phone down and started responding to Suga in large gesticulations. 

“Hear what?”

Bokuto stopped leaning and look at Akaashi as though the younger man had just asked the most obvious question in the world. “Akaashi, don’t you know?” he asked almost apologetically.

“Know what? Bokuto-san, I’m not in the mood for games.”

“Um, well…” Bokuto hesitated a little, “... Oikawa has a mistress.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still trying to figure out formatting with the conversations versus normal writing. It's a hassle but I'll get it eventually.  
> ~~Quotes~~  
> "running from...front door"  
> "they walked through...French windows at either end"  
> "twisting up...of the ceiling"  
> "I'm p-paralyzed....very witty"  
> "Suga had hinted... no less charming.)"  
> "looked back at...arrangement of notes"
> 
> I would like to thank F. Scott Fitzgerald for writting such a beautiful story I can quote and pull inspiration from, my only qualm is how hard it is to keep up with his poetic style and elevated diction.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even have an excuse for why this is such a late update. I've had it done for a while but I kept rewriting it over and over, so I hope you all enjoy this. Also giving the setting, the characters will shake hands rather than bow, I'm sorry for the discrepancy.

“A WHAT?”

“Akaashi keep it down,” Bokuto hissed, grabbing the smaller man’s forearms in a vain attempt to calm him. 

Akaashi sat there dumbfounded, it wasn’t his relationship but he still felt betrayed. He loved Suga dearly and couldn’t possible imagine why anyone would not be satisfied with just him. On the other hand, Akaashi had also been friends with Oikawa since University and refused to believe his friend was capable of committing adultery; sure Oikawa was sassy and a flirt, but from his own experience, Oikawa was nothing but fiercely loyal to those he cared about. Perhaps... 

“No, no, that can’t be true,” Akaashi murmured.  

“Akaashi, I’m so sorry, I honestly thought you knew. I’m so stupid, this is the kind of shit Kuroo is always warning me about. But no, I can’t control by big mouth,” Bokuto started to ramble, growing more and more dejected. Akaashi had began to feel responsible for Bokuto’s sudden sullen mood but wasn’t quite sure how to deal with it. The beautiful man in front of him was a volatile combination of emotions; more than what Akaashi could handle. 

Feeling a little uncomfortable Akaashi swallowed thickly and started again. “Are you sure he really has a mistress?” Akaashi inquired. 

“Well, technically not a mistress.  From what I hear it’s another man,” his voice dropped off at the end.

“Oh”

“Akaashi, look, maybe-”

“We’re back” Oikawa sang as he and Suga approached the table. Oikawa pulled the chair out for Suga before gently pushing him into the table. 

“I hope we weren’t too long,” Suga said settling into seat while flashing a tight lipped smile. 

Just as the group had begun to resume dining, the phone rang again. Each shrill call dug into their ears, louder and louder with each buzz. Though they tried, none of them could ignore that fifth guest’s metallic urgency. At some point Suga had roughly set down his fork and began to rub his temples allowing a slow exasperated sigh to come out.  Akaashi noticed that no one had looked more uncomfortable than Oikawa, who seemed as though he would leap for the phone at any moment

“I’m going to bed I have practice in the morning. Thanks for letting me stay here,” grumbled Bokuto as he stormed away from table into the house, his meal had not been completed. Oikawa ran his hand through his hair and winced at the loud noise of Bokuto slamming the receiver off as he crossed through the room silencing the shrieks. 

“Akaashi do you want to head to New York with me right now, it’s only a few minutes away?” asked Oikawa.

Akaashi glanced between Suga and Oikawa, both men had seemed so broken. Oikawa’s eyes were glossed over as though he was on the verge tears and his voice had been audibly cracking in his question. Suga was shaking slightly and small tears were streaming down his cheeks. 

“Tooru, maybe we should all go to bed?” Akaashi suggested quietly, as though speaking too loud would enough to break the porcelain facade Oikawa was trying to put up.

Oikawa nodded and waved a few servants over to clear the table. He stood and rubbed a small circle and Suga’s back, allowing his hand to linger as he strolled away. 

Once Oikawa was out of earshot, Akaashi moved his chair closer to Suga and asked still in a hushed voice “Suga, what’s wrong?”

Suga shook his head and took Akaashi’s hand in his own , “You’re a rose, you know that, an absolute rose. Walk in the garden with me.” Akaashi followed allowing himself to pulled since he was still unfamiliar with the grounds of the estate. 

The farther they moved away from light provided by the house, it began to grow darker and darker. They walked down a few steps and Akaashi felt his arms being tickled by the soft shrubs and bushes indicating their location. Suga let of of his hand and began to stroll. Off in the distance the tide began to roll in and Akaashi could hear the thunderous waves crashing down onto the shore, he could also hear the small sniffles coming from Suga’s direction. 

Desperate to lighten his cousin’s spirits, he started to inquire about their son, Kageyama. “How tall is Tobio now?” he asked softly, trying not to startle the already emotionally distraught. 

“He’s getting so big now, almost growing out of his clothes again,” Suga lightly chuckled. “You don’t realize how fast children grow until you have one of your own, and they seem to grow inches overnight.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” replied Akaashi. The younger man had no inclination on how to console his cousin. Feeling and emotions were all but completely foreign; in his household of limited interaction and conditional love, Akaashi was inexperienced in comforting himself as well as others. 

“I...I just hope he is nothing like me when get’s older,” Suga let out a sharp caustic laugh. 

“You don’t want him to be kind?” Akaashi pushed, very unsure of where Suga was headed.

There was a slight hesitation before Suga responded,“No, I don’t want him to… you know”

Akaashi shook his head, “I don’t.”

“Gay,” Suga said softly.

“Suga what are you-”

“GAY! The last thing I wish for my son to be is gay!” Suga dropped his knees and began sobbing. “God, I thought coming out would’ve been easier but it just added more pressure. Suddenly I’ve became the media’s token homosexual. Everyone was so god damn amazed we even exist that my personal life is now theirs too. Everything I do is publicized, Akaashi, and it’s driving me insane. I can’t even walk down the street without someone calling me fag” He stopped for a moment to catch his breathe. 

“Keiji, I didn’t even want a kid to begin with… hell, I didn’t even want this marriage,”he whispered under hiccups. 

“Suga, I’m sure you don’t mean that”

“I do!” he snapped. “I mean…” he began to cry again. 

“I do love Tobio, tha t’s for sure. But, you’ve seen my marriage, and I know Bokuto was just filling you in on the lovely details. You, out of everyone I know would understand the most, I can’t leave this marriage no matter how unhappy I am, if I do it will just play into the homophobes’ ideas that we are an abomination on the sanctity of marriage...it would be even worse now that I have a kid.”

Akaashi sat down next to Suga on the stone pathway and pulled him into his chest. Suga turned in gratefully and began to sob all over again; each breath shook his body like child. 

“Suga-Koushi, why are you making yourself a martyr?” Akaashi asked rubbing circles on his back like Oikawa did earlier. 

“Because, my marriage is setting a precedent and I couldn’t live with myself knowing that I ruined the chances of being treated like a human for any other gay men or women out of my own selfishness, that’s why”

“But you don’t owe them anything,” Akaashi continued.

“Don’t pop my bubble Keiji,” Suga sniffled.

Akaashi hesitated, “What about Oikawa?”

“What about him?” Suga huffed, nuzzling deeper into Akaashi’s chest.

“Nevermind.”

So both men sat there, allowing the crash of the waves drown out the sound of falling tears. 

 

* * *

 

Akaashi rolled over in his bed, groaning at the stiffness in his back. Light poured through the gaps in the curtains onto his face causing the ravenette to scrunch his features in distaste. He sat up with his hand on his lower back slightly moaning in pain. Deciding that the stiffness was too much, he flopped back down in his bed. The sunshine from outside clearly indicated that it was well past morning and closer to noon.

He turned to his left and gazed at how empty his king bed looked with just him in it. Akaashi never moved in his sleep leaving the other side of the bed still neatly made; the pillows were unflattened and the black sheets still smooth. Although he had owned this bed for a good portion  of his young adult life, he had never realized how lonesome it was being the only body in it.

Resigning to the comfort his bed provided, Akaashi nudged his face deeper into his down pillows. Last night’s events ran fresh through his mind but he still had so many questions.

_ Why did Oikawa cheat? _

_ Who was he cheating with? _

_ Will Suga be okay? _

_ Does Suga know who Oikawa is cheating with? _

_ Is Oikawa even cheating to begin with? _

His thoughts were interrupted by the trilling noise of his own phone in the kitchen. Not wanting to be impolite to whoever was calling, Akaashi willed himself out the sanctity of his bed and begrudgingly walked into the kitchen.

“Hello?” Akaashi yawned into the receiver.

“Akaashi! Did I just wake you?” Oikawa chirped on the other end of the line, “Anyway, get dressed! We are heading for New York, I’ll be there to pick you up right now!”.  Oikawa hung up leaving Akaashi alone to the hum of a dead line.

He couldn’t help but feel extremely irked with the other man. Akaashi still felt so awkward from how dinner ended the night before. He wasn’t sure how to act in this situation. Would he pretend that he forgot about the whole thing the next time he sees Suga? Akaashi debated confronting Oikawa on the matter when he saw him, but he really did not want to deal with the unbearable silence it would create during the car ride to New York. 

If Akaashi could fix one thing about himself, he wished that he wouldn’t be so awkward. He was grateful that his stoic facial expression made him hard to read. if there were ever a world where people could easily read him, Akaashi couldn’t help but think that he would just die from constant embarrassment.

 

* * *

 

About half way between West Egg and New York the motor road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land. This is a valley of ashes- a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens; where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and, finally, with a transcendent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air. Occasionally a line of gray cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak, and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-gray men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud, which screens their obscure operations from sight. And there, sitting high on a hill overlooking the sea of thick ash, stood an office building, shining and glimmering like a beacon of light. 

“I’m assuming that’s where we are heading,” Akaashi asked, gesturing to the large building that was an eyesore compared to vacated apartment blocks and harrowed lands. 

“Yup, they thought it would be best to have a location that was away from the police and heart of the city, you know, intimidation factor and all,” Oikawa responded knowingly, there was a small smile on his lips and his face seemed calm, very different than what it had been during their dinner. 

Akaashi dubiously nodded figuring that he would find out soon enough who the  _ they _ Oikawa was talking about. He played with his fingers still mulling over the news which he had found out last night; he desperately wanted to put his suspicions to rest and ask Oikawa whether or not the rumors were true. The words would not form however so Akaashi accepted the silence and waited as the blue coupe raced through the fields of grey.   

Once they had reached the building, Oikawa parked the car and hurried to entrance without waiting for Akaashi. There were several other cars parked outside but Akaashi couldn’t see any other sign of life.The inside of the building was a large empty granite lobby with only a front desk and an entrance to an elevator a few paces down. 

Oikawa approached the woman who was sitting at the desk who had seemed to deeply focusing on the book in front of her. Her black hair framed her face and she delicately twirled a loose strand as she read.

“Hi Kiyoko, I’m here for Iwa-chan,” Oikawa chirped happily, flashing his ever so radiant smile. The woman tucked the wisp of hair behind her ear and looked at Oikawa with a bored look, clearly not impressed. She leaned a little to her right to get a better look at Akaashi past Oikawa. Suddenly Akaashi became self conscious under the silent scrutiny of the beautiful woman in front of him and began to play with his fingers again. Kiyoko turned her attention back to Oikawa and raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Keiji? He’s harmless,” Oikawa laughed.

Kiyoko nodded and pressed the button on her desk that unlocked the door to the elevator before returning back to her book. Oikawa strolled over to the elevator signalling to Akaashi to follow him. Inside the elevator Akaashi felt cramped and hot. He had never been a fan of extremely tight spaces and always found himself panicking. The loud whir of the machine seemed to grow louder and louder with each passing floor. The gears grinded and hissed moving them higher and higher. Akaashi could’ve sworn that the air had become thinner and the walls were slowly concaving inward, just slow enough to where you couldn’t see it, but you could definitely feel it. He leaned back against the wall as though to counter the imaginary force pushing the walls in.

The cold rush of air flowing in once the doors opened felt like nothing short of a miracle to Akaashi. The room the entered seemed to be a sort of cigar lounge and several different men were in there, each minding to themselves with idle activities. Akaashi felt the eyes of the strangers boring holes into his back as he quickly tailed behind Oikawa fearing being corned or questioned by the other men.

Oikawa approached a younger man slumped in his seat by one of the windows. There was an empty bottle of Jack next his chair and a glass cup teetered on its side on the table next to a telephone. Akaashi crinkled his nose at the pungent smell of alcohol radiating off the unknown man. 

“Iwa-chan, wake up” called Oikawa, softly shaking Iwaizumi’s shoulders. Iwaizumi suddenly flinched awake. 

“Shittykawa? What are you doing here?” he mumbled while rubbing his eyes trying to adjust to the light. Akaashi was slightly baffled at the sight infront of him, how soft Oikawa was speaking, how gentle he was being, even the look on his faced, all of these were how one would behave with their spouse not some stranger or friend, unless…

“Don’t you remember?” Oikawa hushed his voice even lower, “You called me last twice during dinner?”

Behind his blank expression Akaashi was shocked, sitting before him, half awake and sloppily dressed, was the man his old friend had been cheating on his cousin with. Akaashi wanted to call Oikawa out on the subject right then, he wanted to demand answers, demand a confession. Alas, Akaashi’s social anxiety had far more control over him and he remained silently horrified. 

“Come let’s get you cleaned up,” Oikawa hoisted Iwaizumi up and wrapped one arm around his waist and use the other to keep Iwaizumi’s arm around his own shoulders so that Oikawa could bear most of the weight. 

Akaashi got a good look at the man in front of him. He had tan skin, darker than Bokuto , and short spiky black hair that seemed to keep its shape despite the owner’s drunken stupor. Although he was clearly hungover, Iwaizumi had a stern yet kind look about him with lovely green eyes and was just barely shorter than Akaashi himself. 

The trio began walking back to the elevator when they were suddenly stopped by a larger man, looming over all of them with massive shoulders. “And what do you think you are doing with our underboss?” he asked, placing a large hand on Oikawa’s chest to stop them. Iwaizumi groaned at the sudden jerking movement. 

“Ushiwaka, why does speaking with you always have to be so unpleasant,” Oikawa snapped back. “If you must know you large beast, I’m here to take your precious underboss to his apartment so that he can actually sleep, besides, if he was that important to you all, someone should’ve done it by now.”

Oikawa huffed and pushed past Ushijima continuing his way to the elevator with Akaashi following. Ushijima placed a large hand on Akaashi’s shoulder stopping him before leaving, his followed Oikawa as he held onto Akaashi, 

“I don’t know who you are, but watch yourself, I’m not okay with anyone who spends anytime with that flamer.”

Akaashi nodded, taken aback by what seemed to have been an indefinite threat before hurrying to get back into the elevator.  Ushijima stopped him again gripping his arm firmly, “ I can’t risk anything happening to my family’s name, or any member of it as well.” He finally let go and Akaashi felt his blood tingle as it rushed back into his arm.

 

* * *

 

 

“This is Iwaizumi-san’s apartment?” Akaashi asked scanning the loft around him. 

“No, it’s ours, we like to come here when it’s just us,” Oikawa hummed as he made his way through the living area towards a door which Akaashi assumed was the bedroom. The apartment itself was very handsome, the living area was mostly open except for the single closed off bedroom in the back. The walls were tall and red brick, giving the apartment a more masculine feel to it. 

The door clicked behind the two men leaving Akaashi alone to his own thoughts. The first and foremost was  _ What the actual fuck.  _

Akaashi was repulsed that Oikawa brought him to spend the day with him and his mistress, or side lover, or whatever it is one would call their side boyfriend. 

He made his way around the loft taking in the noticeable differences between Oikawa’s mansion with Suga and apartment with Iwaizumi. There was a homey feel to the apartment, it almost felt welcoming, a complete antithesis to the house back in the East Egg. There was a leather couch with several pillows carelessly thrown on and an array of magazines strewn across the coffee table in front. On a shelf above the fireplace there were several trophies and pictures, especially of Oikawa and Iwaizumi together. Akaashi made his way to the bay window that provided a full, breathtaking view of the city. He gazed at the cars below and the glimmering light being reflected off the windows from the buildings across the street. 

Turning to the dinning area he saw piles of blankets and pillows, and what he thought to look like a tray of half eaten cookies on the floor. Next to the tray was a set of matching mugs; both teal with a painted leaf pattern on them. If he didn’t know any better he would’ve thought that the two men had built a sort of fort like children. Akaashi chuckled to himself trying to figure how someone as tall as Oikawa could fit into a fort. Looking around Akaashi realized that the biggest difference between here and the East Egg was that this apartment was a home; not just a place live, but somewhere to come and let worries go, a place where Oikawa probably felt safe. 

Suddenly, a pit formed in Akaashi’s stomach filling him with mixed emotions. He was no longer angry with Oikawa but found himself sympathizing for him.  He remembered how Suga told him through tears that he never wanted this marriage, did Oikawa feel the same way? Before his thoughts could consume him the phone rang from the kitchen.

Akaashi turned to the door half expecting Oikawa or Iwaizumi to emerge from the presumed bedroom, but after three rings and no response Akaashi answered the for them. 

“Hello, Oikaw, uh, Iwaizu, uh, I can take a message?” Akaashi stumbled.

“What? Who is this?” a smooth, baritone voice on the other end responded. If he hadn’t been so flustered Akaashi would’ve been mesmerized by the voice. 

“This is Akaashi Keiji, I can take message for Oikawa-san or Iwaizumi-san”

“Take a message? Are they not there?”

“N-no, they are here, they’re just… busy,” his voice trailed.

“Alright, cool. Hey Makki,” the voice got distant addressing someone else in the background, “they’re home but they have a guest, and I think they are getting it on?”

“Ew, that’s so rude with a guest in their loft,” the addressee's responded.

“Wait, wait, wait! they’re not doing it,” Akaashi tried to quickly correct.

There was a laugh on the other end of the line, “It’s alright man, you don’t need to cover for them, we know those filthy animals, it’s fine. We’ll be right up,” and the man hung up. Akaashi hung the phone back on the receiver feeling slightly overwhelmed at the fact there was now company coming over. 

He sat himself on the couch and began to wring his hands anxiously. He wasn’t even at his own home and now suddenly he had indirectly invited guest over to somebody else’s home. Akaashi had no idea if there was even food to give the guests, or worse, if Oikawa or Iwaizumi didn’t want guests. 

“Akaashi, who was that one the phone?” Oikawa asked, walking out of the bedroom in different, more comfortable looking clothes. 

“I don’t know, but they asked for you and said that they were coming up soon”

Oikawa nodded approvingly easing some of the building anxiety in Akaashi. “Sounds like fun,” he smiled, making his way over to kitchen. Akaashi watched as Oikawa began digging around the kitchen, obviously looking for something in particular. 

“Your name is Akaashi, right?” Akaashi flinched, clearly startled by the man the just appeared next to him. Iwaizumi was standing in front of Akaashi without a shirt on allowing him to get a full view of the physical masterpiece that was Iwaizumi Hajime. 

“I am,” Akaashi stuck out his hand. He noticed the look of relief that washed over Iwaizumi, replacing his previous bewildered, almost scared expression. Iwaizumi shook his hand gratefully but still looked worried. Akaashi, as well as anyone one else would admit that Iwaizumi was very attractive. His greens eye were harsh yet reassuring, and were complimented greatly by his beautifully bronzed skin. Akaashi noticed however, there were several large white scars going across the other man’s toned chest. 

“Oh those,” Iwaizumi started, touching the one closest to his heart absentmindedly. “My uh, family, well they...”

Akaashi widened his eyes when he understood the greater implication Iwazumi was getting at. He had always heard of hate crimes, but he never thought that someone’s own family would do such a thing to them. “Iwaizumi-san, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to stare,” Akaashi cut him off and began to apologize, feeling his own face heat up and his previous anxiety returning. 

“No, no, it’s fine, I should be wearing a shirt. Besides, if anyone should be apologizing, it’s me,” he responded, scratching the back of his neck and carefully not making eye contact. Keeping his eyes on the floor he continued, “I know you are Suga’s cousin. And I know you know who I am, or at least my role in Oikawa’s life, look, and…” his voice cracked and trailed at the end. 

Not wanting to witness another grown man cry in such a short period of time, Akaashi gently pat Iwaizumi’s shoulder, causing the other man to look up at him red eyes that were clearly tearing up. “Iwaizumi-san, you have people coming over soon, why don’t we save this talk for a better time?” Iwaizumi gratefully gave a small smile and nodded softly. 

“Always the sensible one, huh ‘kaashi?” Oikawa chimed in, walking over to the two men with a glass that appeared to be bubbling. “Here Iwa-chan, drink this and take these two pills for your hangover,” he demanded handing the concoction over. Iwaizumi took the drink and pills from Oikawa’s hands and made his way over to the couch. 

“So, what do you think of this, Akaashi?” Oikawa asked, gesturing to the entire loft. 

“I like it, it’s very eclectic. You’re not as shallow as I thought you were,” Akaashi responded.  _ Or at least not terms of housing decorations,  _ he thought to himself. 

“How rude Keiji, the best I can get from you is a backhanded compliment,” Oikawa pouted.

“Shut it, Shittykawa, at least he said he like it,” Iwaizumi called out. His ridged body language still suggested he felt uneasy. 

“Mean Iwa-chan, oh my, I don’t think I can handle this from both of you,” responded Oikawa, putting his arm dramatically to forehead as though he was about to faint. 

Just then there were three harsh knocks on their front door. “Oh great,” Oikawa sighed, “More people that  _ love  _ to compliment me as well.”

Oikawa opened the door and Akaashi saw two men standing, one was slightly taller than Oikawa with dark hair and a nice set of eyebrows, the other was shorter with pink looking hair and was holding what seemed to be a baby. Both men were dressed in white shirts and loose cotton pants, much like Iwaizumi and Oikawa. 

“Okay, what fresh hell is that?” Oikawa asked pointing to the baby in the pink head’s hands. 

“How dare you insult our child,” the taller one spoke in faux offense. Akaashi could tell by the voice that was who he had been speaking with on the phone. 

“Yeah Oikawa, this week we are the proud fathers of this little bundle of joy,” said the smaller one pushing past Oikawa into the apartment. The taller one followed making his way to Akaashi sticking his hand out to greet him. 

“Matsuwaka Issei, nice to meet you, Akaashi, was it? You can call me Mattsun”

“Mm-hm, nice to meet you, too,”

“I’m Hanamaki Takahiro, but you can call me Makki. Would you like to hold our baby?”

Before Akaashi could respond, Makki was already placing the baby in his arms. Akaashi looked down and saw looking back at him was in fact not a baby, but a swaddled dog; a German Shepherd puppy to be exact. 

“I, um, I like…. This is not a baby,” Akaashi stated bluntly, not sure how else to handle to situation. At that point Makki and Mattsun were cracking up with laughter.

Through giggles Mattsun explained, “This is Kyoutani,he belongs to our friend Yahaba and we are dog sitting for him.”

“So you idiots thought that wrapping the poor creature up in a blanket was the best course of action?” Oikawa asked. He removed the dog from Akaashi’s arms, unwrapping the puppy, and placing him on the floor. The dog gave a small shake before sprinting away to Iwaizumi. 

‘Oh come on, you know it was funny, it got a decent enough reaction out of Akaashi over here,” said Makki, finally calming down. 

Mattsun had ambled his way over to the couch where Iwaizumi was currently playing with the dog and languidly plopped himself down. Makki and Oikawa were now in the kitchen rummaging through the cabinets leaving Akaashi standing alone in the entry.

“So how come I’ve never seen you before?” Mattsun called out to Akaashi from over his shoulder. “And follow up question, why are you still over there, sit down with us. I promise I don’t bite too hard.”

Akaashi shuffled into the living area sitting on a lounge chair to face the others who were on the couch. He watched as the  puppy laid on Iwaizumi’s lap rolling into each stroke against his fur. 

“Akaashi?” Mattsun asked, breaking the younger man’s  trance.

“Oh, excuse me. Well, you haven’t seen me that often because I just moved here recently.”

“Ah, so are you here to chase money or chase women?”

Akaashi was slightly taken aback at how the other man could such a blunt question upon barely meeting him.”I moved here to start a new career, so I guess to chase money.”

Mattsun gave an approving and asked yet another question, this time a little slower, “So if you’re new here, how do you know Oikawa and Iwaizumi?” Makki stopped the chopping he was doing in the kitchen to look up at Akaashi for a response. Iwaizumi uncomfortably shifted in his seat and focused his attention to the small dog in his lap. 

Akaashi froze momentarily, he briefly thought about whether or not explaining his relationship to Oikawa would change the mood the room. By mentioning Suga, would that show where he allegiance stands and therefore ruin any chance of getting to know the other men further. Or would he say he’s a friend of Oikawa and create a mutual bond through a common friend. Clearly Mattsun and Hanamaki were interested in the well being of their two friends and they had Akaashi out numbered, but it’s not like they would do anything to him, would they?

“I’m Oikawa’s friend, for years now” he added. 

Mattsun leaned back in his seat and a let out a lazy half smile. “Well any friend of Oikawa’s is a friend of ours. Welcome to our shitty little family.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Citations:  
> "You’re a rose, you know that, an absolute rose"  
> "...none of them could ignore that fifth guest’s metallic urgency"  
> "About half way between West Egg...their obscure operations from sight"
> 
> Thank you so much for making is this far, I promise that I will update way more often!! Now that I've completed all my university application I should definitely have more time! Also, check out lilmissepic on tumblr, https://tmblr.co/ZXvdgl2GFDlGY , she made some beautiful fan art for this fic! I hope you all have an amazing new year filled with happiness and smiles. Also, would you all prefer me to add tags as I go or do you want me to just add all of them now, although that may spoil some of the plot twists? My inbox is always open if any of you want to request stories, ask questions, or just want a friend ♥ ♥ ♥


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